


Where It All Started

by prettyface_lonelyheart



Series: Only One [3]
Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, First Meeting, Princes & Princesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 10:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14471220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyface_lonelyheart/pseuds/prettyface_lonelyheart
Summary: A prologue of sorts to "Only One" from three different perspectives.





	1. Aria

**Author's Note:**

> This was around a Creative Writing assignment I did about fabula and syuzhet (the chronological sequence of events in a story & how the story is framed, respectively), and seeing that I received a lot of feedback pertaining to Aria and Hugo's backstory, I settled on telling it here, from Aria's perspective, Hugo's perspective, and the perspective of an all-knowing third person.

“Sorry Miss,” a man with bags under his eyes looked up at the brown-eyed girl on the opposite side of the table and shrugged. “Seems we’re all out of corn.”

Aria nodded understandingly. “Do you know when you’ll be getting more?”

“Hmm,” the man thought for a minute and asked his daughter, who set a box of broccoli on the table perpendicular to the one he was seated at. “Juniper, do you know when we’ll get corn again?”

She brushed a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun behind her ear and turned to her father. “Tomorrow, around noon, I believe.”

“Tomorrow, around noon,” the man turned back to his customer and repeated what he had just been told.

“Would you like me to write you in for a box?”

“Yes, please,” replied Aria, retrieving her basket from beside her foot, where she had set it.

She gave him her name and address before bidding him farewell.

_Looks like no corn for supper_ , she thought to herself. _Renee will be disappointed._

Aria knows how much the little one likes corn.

She glanced at her basket, which contained a loaf of bread, a stick of butter, two bottles of milk, and a potato. Luckily, she had just enough money to get something else for the children, maybe some ham to balance out the carbs.

A relieved sigh escaped her lungs upon seeing there still some ham available at the meat market.

Fast-walking to the booth, as if everything could sell in a span of two seconds, Aria grabbed a leg from the line of hams and brought it to the merchant.

“That’ll be 15 cloves,” the lady made a note on her purchase book for the leg.

Aria handled her the last 20 copper coins she had.

“Keep the change,” Aria smiled and took her purchase.

She’d walked away so soon that she didn’t see the woman’s reaction. Rosie, her foster mother caught her tipping once when she bought ice cream for the other children and urged against it. Aria didn’t believe there was malice in the request, since Rosie always encouraged her and her ‘siblings’ to be kind to others. The real reason, she’d come to learn early on, was that she wanted to have enough money to feed the children and be able to buy new clothes should the sole of a shoe part from the body or a tear makes a new home on a dress. Despite all this, Aria believed that, while most people in Cresilen had more money than her foster family, no one was particularly rich enough to support him or herself for a long period of time. Everyone in the kingdom was struggling, maybe some more than others, with the exception of the royal family. With this in mind, Aria aims to tip at least once every few weeks, even if it’s only one extra clove.

It’d be quite a lengthy walk back to the orphanage, especially with all the groceries she’d gathered. In addition to the basket and the ham, she had a tote on her shoulder with bags of flour, sugar, and coffee beans. She stayed on the side of the path, knowing she would only slow down other townsfolk with all the food weighing her down.

Though she was bigger than a majority of women in Cresilen, she lacked physical strength.

“Do you need help?”

For some reason, the voice made her cheeks warm.

She knew who it was and she was certain this person was talking to someone else, but she turned around anyway to face him.

There he was: Prince Hugo of Cresilen.

Her lips parted to speak. Not a single sound came out. Not even a hesitant “umm”.

It was as if those icy blue eyes reached out and grabbed her ordinary brown orbs.

A smile. A smile stretched across his face and he looked to the side while scratching the back of his head, where his blond locks were shaved as opposed to the top where a neat part lay by his temple.

“I-I’m sorry to have bothered you, Miss,” he met her eyes again. “I’ll be on my w—“

“Your Highness, wait!” she stopped him from turning around and leaving, wanting so badly to keep being in his presence.

His body readjusted so his feet completely pointed towards her again.

She awkwardly held out her basket. “I mean, if you’re not busy...”

He wrapped his hand around the handle and gestured to her tote. “May I?”

Really? Aria thought. He probably never even has to hold his own pocket watch.

She found herself smiling too as she let the tote slip down her arm. She caught the handle with her hand and gave it to him. All the while, his eyes never left her.

He slung the tote over his shoulder and carried the basket with his other hand. “Lead the way.”

She turned to the opposite direction and walked to the orphanage, swinging the ham by her side.

When they arrived, she invited him to the kitchen, where he set her belongings down on the counter.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Aria told Hugo with a shy smile.

He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips, causing her heart to bang repeatedly against her chest.

He lowered her hand and smirked. “You’re most welcome...”

"Aria.”


	2. Hugo

“Your Highness,” a curly-haired young man knocked on the chamber door. “Shall I get the carriage ready?”

Fastening the last button on his shirt, the prince on the other side of the door pulled a strange expression. “Absolutely not, Matthias. We’ll just walk.”

There was a brief silence before Matthias added, “Yes, Your Highness.”

He must have thought Hugo to be insane. The walk from the castle to the meeting spot was several blocks away. The prince didn’t feel it right to be traveling in that way though, especially when citizens would be gathered at the town square. Not only was it a hazard, but also the display itself was unnecessary: fancy cabin pulled by a white horse.

He made it to the ground floor of the castle, where Matthias waited with stacks of papers in hand and a pen behind his ear.

“Maybe we’ll see something interesting at the square,” the prince buttoned his cuffs. “Any new imports lately?”

Matthias lowered his arm and glanced at the first page of the packet he carried. “Corn’s been backed up. None came in today, but shipments are expected to arrive tomorrow at noon.”

Hugo gave a slight nod. “Anything else?”

Before he knew it, Matthias went mute, for all of Hugo’s attention turned to a raven-haired girl strolling along the side of the road. The bag on her shoulder slipped repeatedly, making her stop every few steps to fix it.

“Your Highness?”

Hugo snapped out of his reverie and found that both he and the butler had stopped walking. Matthias was giving the prince a confused look.

“Hold on,” Hugo quickly said before starting towards the girl.

“But your meeting—“

“Inform Aldo I’ll be running late!” Hugo added before jogging to the side of the pathway.

“Do you need help?” he asked when he was a good foot or so behind her.

She turned around to face him, and boy was she the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Her long hair spun with her, brushing her shoulders. Her big, brown eyes studied his face. She opened her mouth to say something, but that seemed to fall short.

Though captivating as she was, he couldn’t help but think he was pestering her.

“I-I’m sorry to have bother you, Miss,” he found his voice again. “I’ll be on my w—“

He was about to meet up with Matthias again, preparing an explanation as to why he had run off so suddenly. He was thankful he heard it.

“Your Highness, wait!”

So he didn’t _completely_ screw up.

He turned to her again and saw she was offering her basket to him.

“I mean, if you’re not busy...” she began.

He wanted to do more though, so he asked if he could take her other bag.

She obliged and he followed her to a run down orphanage. His heart tore down the middle.

Unbeknownst to her, he vowed to himself to see her again.


	3. Tschuss

They stood there, vastly differing in every way.

The Prince of Cresilen faced a commoner in the compressed kitchen of her home. He was a step away from the gray basin, where a white rag hung from the rim. On either side of the sink, were wood tables mounted to the walls. Adjacent to the counters sat a small storage cabinet.

Prince Hugo’s white shirt bore the kingdom’s crest on the left breast and all buttons were fastened with the exception of the one on his collar. His polished black shoes blended in with his slacks. On his left wrist was a minimalist watch with a black leather band. He stood tall, hands folded in front of him as he smiled at the woman before him, who was about ten inches shorter.

All Aria had to her was reflected in her appearance: a simple, faded purple dress with a split neckline laced together with a bow made of the same material of the dress. Her flat shoes were pink and coated in dust from cleaning the house earlier that day.

She felt it was rude to divert her gaze from his, but she felt as though, if she were to keep looking, her knees would give out. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind.

“I’d like to see you again,” he confessed. “I have a meeting, but I will return promptly.”

She nodded and leaned against the counter as he started for the door.

“Tschuss,” Aria meekly stated.

Hugo bade her farewell with his charming smile and faintly blushing cheeks.


End file.
